[A/N] I'm a lesbian who is trying to write boy-slash, what is kind of weird somehow. But that's the magic of fan fiction combined with the evil plot bunnies in my head. I had so much fun, writing this little piece of slash loving here, that it actually turned out the longest one-shot I have ever written so far. Hope, some of you enjoy reading it a bit as well.

**Courage**

Today his hair is tamed with some sort of gel and not a single wisp of his coppery mess is falling down his forehead like it usually does. I love to run my fingers through it while he's still asleep. I love the little groans that keep falling from his mouth when he notices it. He likes me touching his hair a lot. It helps him to relax and that's something Edward never has been very good at.

The cream colored tie around his neck turns my attention to his bobbing Adam's apple and I know exactly how the skin right underneath it tastes like upon my tongue.

Salty and slightly tart…

The tux he's dressed in today is the same his birth father wore when he married his mother and him wearing it proves what kind of a romantic my Beloved truly is.

Daffodils, my favorite flowers, are decorated all over the small church building he has chosen for the ceremony.

There's a single traitorous tear glistening in his eyes and I want so badly to wipe it away with a tender kiss. My Edward doesn't cry. He never does because he thinks it unmanly or some crap like that.

In all the years that I've known him, he has exactly cried two times.

The first time was after the first real kiss the two of us shared and he got pissed at me for making him all confused in the head. I had known I was gay since I was thirteen and because my family was always very supporting about my orientation I never really had to live through the inner torture of fear that he went through every day since we crossed the line between friendship and love.

Second time was when his Dad died after losing the fight with lung cancer.

Edward's family is rather conservative. His mother is very active in their church community and his stepfather obviously seems to think that gay men lurk around school yards to seduce little boys. Fucked up, homophobic asshole.

The deep melodic voice of my green-eyed Lover forms the ancient promises that have been used as marriage vows by millions of couples before and somehow they still haven't lost one tiny bit of their magic.

"I, Edward Anthony Masen, promise to love you, from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, for as long as we both shall live."

His full lower lip curves upwards into a half smile when he finishes and picks up the plain golden ring from the little silk pillow.

This moment is exactly like I always imagined it to be like. It's simply breathtaking and I swallow hard to hold back the tears.

I wouldn't want to explain them to any of the wedding guests. I couldn't explain them to them.

Everything is perfect apart from one thing—

The person standing in front of Edward, the person on which hand he's shoving down the ring right now, the person who's the luckiest person in the whole goddamn world…

That person is not me.

I feel my chest tightening painfully around my heart until I can't breathe anymore and my soul crumbles into countless shards while I can't manage to look away from the man I love, from the man that loves me back, that much I know, whether he wants to admit it to the rest of the world or not.

It's enough that he confessed it to me, over and over again. I will always have that. No one can take that away from me.

Mechanically I shake his hand after the ceremony, and his fingers close around mine for a split second too long. The green of his eyes is foggy, almost lifeless but nobody apart from me is going to notice it, I'm sure about that. Maybe because no one knows Edward like I do.

The pretty brunette who is now carrying the name Isabella Marie Masen blushes when I make a compliment on her ivory colored gown.

Watching them dance slowly to the melody of Fly me to the Moon, I gulp down two glasses of the crisp champagne, knowing that I will need something way stronger to make it halfway through the rest of the night.

Outside it is raining and my suit is soaked before I manage to reach my car. There is a bottle of Single Malt whisky in the glove box and I pull it out, taking a greedy sip while holding it between my trembling hands.

It was done

We were over

I had lost him

Gulping down the bitter liquid I lean back against the cold leather, caressing the seat next to me with my fingertips.

The fucking car holds way too many memories for me. And by memories I mean memories of him.

How his hand moved over the bulge in my jeans for the first time.

How my tongue swirled over the throbbing head of his cock while he drove through the nightly streets of Seattle.

How the windows got steamed from our love-making on the back seat.

Turning on the engine the familiar sound of piano music starts playing and I remember how he used to play for me for hours when we were at his place.

Music helps him to express his feelings when his words are not enough. Maybe that's why he liked playing for me this much.

A few minutes later I find myself on an empty parking lot behind a supermarket. Stepping out of the car, I pour the rest of the whisky over the seats and fumble for the silver lighter in my trousers.

After lighting up a cigarette, I inhale deeply through my parted lips. If Edward could see me now, he'd be so mad. He hates smoking more than anything.

Why should I care what he thinks?

Throwing the gleaming cigarette butt onto the passenger's seat I turn around and walk away.

I am numb, inside and outside.

I am broken, in every way a person can be broken.

I am dead although I'm still alive.

For the first time in my twenty-two years I believe that a heart can actually be broken.

Just another first I owe to Edward Masen, like I needed that after all the others.

He has been with me during all my important firsts.

My mother, Rosie and I moved to Seattle after she and Dad got divorced. At that time I was nine, a shy chubby boy with the thickest southern accent between here and Dallas.

The Masen family lived right across the street and after watching Edward racing down the street on his bike I desperately wanted to emulate him.

My attempt to impress him with my free-handed style made me end up in the local E.R. where they had to fix my knee with twenty stitches. I whimpered and cried after my mother but Edward shook my shoulders to stop me.

"Damn it, you can't weep like a stupid girl. Suck it in like a man, if that's what you are."

"But it hurts." I croaked out, wiping the snot from my running nose with the back of my hand.

"If you cry it doesn't make it hurt less." He explained, giving me my very first lesson on how a man was supposed to act.

My drunkard of a father never really was sober enough to teach me the important things in life. But for that I had Edward.

He was four years older than me, a tall, lanky teenager with constantly un-brushed hair and huge, questioning looking green eyes.

Edward didn't have many friends his age, always being way more interested in playing the piano or sticking his nose into a book instead of doing sports. Later I found out that he only refused to join the Baseball team of our local High School because the thought of having to shower in front of a dozen other boys seemed horrible to him. How in heaven's name was be going to explain his traitorous hard-on to them?

Speaking of hard-on's in the most embarrassing situations, I sure was a victim of that. As soon as I entered puberty the little, or well maybe not so little any more, fucker sprang to life at the most inappropriate situations.

During a church ceremony

While I was grocery shopping with my Mom

Most of all though when a good looking guy passed me by on the street and I couldn't manage to keep my view from his crotch or his backside.

My erection was constantly throbbing against my pants but there wasn't a goddamn thing I could do about that. Was there?

One night while Edward was hanging out at my place and we were watching Spartacus on the new flat screen in our living room, my dick stirred in my pants as Edward's thigh brushed against my knee.

Quickly, I tried to hide it by grabbing a pillow next to and placing it on the impressive bulge in my jeans.

"What are you doing there?" he asked me, raising one eyebrow.

My face flamed and I stuttered out some sort of lame apology, attempting to force my hard cock down by pressing my hand against my crotch. It wasn't helping the situation one tiny bit.

"I'm sorry, but I can't control that."

"You need to take care of it. Are you jacking off regularly?"

"What? No, I've never done that. I don't know how to."

He grabbed my arm and pulled me upwards into our tiny bathroom, pulling the bottle with baby oil out of the shelf.

"Here, you should use a bit of that while you are touching yourself, helps everything to glide more smoothly."

"Edward, I can't do that."

"What the fuck. Are you stupid? Every guy is doing that. It's not that difficult."

I sat down on the edge of the bathtub and after a moment of hesitation I fumbled the fly of my jeans open, freeing my erection.

"I'll give you some privacy." he murmured, licking his lower lip and seeing him do that made my cock twitch against my fingers. I wanted him to stay and watch me. I wanted him to show me how to pleasure myself.

"Use the baby oil," he whispered, standing up to close the door behind him, giving me a last glimpse of his deliciously tempting backside.

Waiting for his steps on the wooden stairs I squeezed a bit of the oil on my palm and started rubbing it down my entire shaft.

Fuck that felt so good…

A groan left my throat and the next thing I heard was the husky sound of Edward's voice speaking through the door.

"See, I told you it's not that difficult. Run your thumb over the head, and then move your hand back down again to the base."

I did as he told me and all the while I was palming my painfully hard cock I imagined my hand being his. It was such a turn on.

His voice came out in raspy breaths as I kept stroking myself, picturing his face in front of me, his full lips curling into that one-dimpled smile.

With a stiffened moan of his name I came all over my hand, the spasms rocking through my body making my knees weak underneath me.

Afterwards we sat silently next to each other on the couch, as far away from each other as possible and watched the end of the film. He was embarrassed, ashamed almost and I was more confused than ever before in my life.

It was then I realized I was gay. At least I was gay for Edward.

Two days later he had a girlfriend. An alibi girlfriend, that much I was instantly sure of. He had told me over and over again how much Tanya Denali's Russian accent got on his nerves. She on the other hand was thrilled that she had finally managed to catch his attention and the two of them walked around the School holding hands and throwing silly kisses at each other.

The whole farce lasted for three, endless seeming months. Then he broke it off with her, declaring that he needed to concentrate on School and not pussies if he wanted to keep up his good grades.

It was a ridiculous excuse. Edward is one of the few blessed people that manage to make it through School without ever having to study at all. He's smart and yet he's so terribly stupid at the very same time.

Still, I was so incredibly happy that he wasn't dating Tanya anymore and our friendship returned to the pre-jack-off lesson incident.

We went to the movies together, where I fought the urge to place my hand on his knee in the safety of the darkness. He played the piano for me, impressing me with some songs he had actually managed to compose on his own. I talked him into taking hiking trips whenever the ever rainy sky above the Olympic Peninsula decided to light up a little bit, enjoying how he snuggled against me from behind when we were freezing our asses of in the tiny tent we spent the nights in during our trips.

The years passed and I came out to my mother and my sis, who both assured me that it didn't matter to them at all as long as I was happy with it. But the fact was I wasn't happy. I was tensed and moody, almost losing my patience with Edward who kept on making one step forward and two backwards, giving me hope and destroying it within the blink of an eye.

He broke McCarty's nose when the grinning moron dared to call me a little faggot in front of the entire school, causing Edward the first and only week of detention during his entire High School time.

When I went to his house that night, he seemed pissed at me, keeping his attention focused on a copy of Moby Dick while I sat down in front of his bed, crossing my legs underneath me.

"Aren't you going to talk to me? Look, I came here to thank for defe…,"

"Because it's making me livid how you have to shove it into everyone's face WHAT you are. It seems like you are proud that the thought of sucking another man's cock turns you on. I hate that! I hate that so much and most of all I hate the way you make me feel when I look at you."

My hands fisted into the tousled hair on his head, realizing for the first time how soft it felt and then, barely a heartbeat later his mouth on mine was even softer.

The kiss was greedily, our teeth and tongues teasing each other in a frenzy, lips being sucked and licked while my heart throbbed joyfully in my chest. When the tip of his tongue grazed the inside of my mouth I almost came in my pants like the virgin loser I was.

Eventually he pulled back, turning his head to the side to bury it against the pillows on his bed. Several, suppressed dry sobs left his throat before his entire body started trembling under his sobbing.

"Edward, it's ok." I whispered, stroking up and down his back with my hands, unsure if he would let me hold him now. He seemed so vulnerable to me in that moment and somehow that made me love him even more.

"It's going to be ok. Please, try to calm down."

"No, it's not." he sniffed, raising his head up from the pillow again. His green eyes were reddened and his face flushed, not that it lessened the beauty of his face to me.

I pulled him against my chest, feeling a shiver run through me when his lips kissed the small stripe of exposed skin on my throat.

"I wished I was dead. I wished I wouldn't like you the way I like you. Jazz, I can't be gay. I just can't."

He was scared and while I was holding him, I nuzzled my nose against his hairline, inhaling his scent before I whispered the words that were going to become sort of a mantra for the rest of our relationship.

"It can be our secret."

Keeping my feelings for Edward hidden from the rest of the world was difficult for me. It was hard not to kiss him in the middle of the street whenever I felt like it. Unbearable to listen to his made-up stories about girl he had nailed.

Worst thing though was that it made me feel like a fucking hypocrite. I was openly gay and yet I was so irrevocably in love with someone who was ashamed of being the way he was. In an attempt to help others I even started a Coming Out Group at School that was immediately joined by a bunch of people.

Edward though, never dared to set as much as one toe inside our meetings on Wednesday afternoon. But when he picked me up after them to grab some Burgers or a Pizza he almost couldn't suppress the jealousy.

Without sounding smug, I am quite a good looking guy. My baby fat had vanished with the help of swim lessons and nightly runs, leaving behind nothing but solid, lean muscles. Together with my honey-blond curls and my deep blue eyes I managed to attract several guys.

Most of them were nice, but the thing was they weren't Edward and he was the only one I wanted. Maybe because I was a secret masochist for my life could have been a whole lot easier if I hadn't set my heart on him who didn't even dare to take my hand while we were strolling through the mall.

It was always Edward and his gay friend, never Edward and his boyfriend when we were out in public.

The times we were alone though were magical, earthshattering even. He was so hungry for my touch, his lips almost constantly on my bare skin, his fingers running down my chest, slipping underneath my shirt to caress the rippled muscles on my abdomen.

Then, very slowly he pulled down my sweats, his eyes never leaving mine as he wrapped his long, slim fingers around the base of my cock. Leaning forward he swirled the tip of his rosy tongue over its head, licking up the tiny drops of pre-cum from the slit. The feeling was so overwhelming that my balls tightened against my body. He started sucking me into the hot wetness of his mouth and I tumbled into the sweetest oblivion possible.

Trying to take me deeper, he gagged around my cock, pulled back all the way to run his tongue down my entire length, down to my sensitive balls to suckle them gently.

As he turned his attention back to my shaft, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the wall behind my bed. Incredible waves of lust prickled through my veins as my throbbing cock twitched inside his mouth.

"Fuck, I'm coming. I can't hold it back…oh fuck…oh fuck."

My orgasm rushed through my body, sending several spurts of semen down his throat. The look on his face as he swallowed all of me almost brought me over the edge again.

He kissed my softening cock for a last time before he cuddled against my side.

"Your face is not from this world when you climax. God, I love you so much." he whispered breathlessly into my ear.

Sadly, our love was not for this world. Our love was something that was only allowed to blossom in the familiar security of our rooms. Here, where it was just the two us, he was truly mine.

We made plans, drawing red circles around cities on the map hanging in his bedroom, marking all the places we wanted to see.

Paris

Rom

Amsterdam

I set my hopes on a year-long trip all over Europe after I'd manage to finish my High School Diploma but then the doctors found cancer in Edward's father's lungs and the next following years were overshadowed by chemotherapies and countless other attempts to get the condition under control.

It wasn't helping and the once proud navy Officer spent the last weeks of his life wearing an oxygen mask over his face, coughing blood and God knows what kind of stuff.

Edward was alone with him when he died and afterwards, after mechanically calling the funeral home and taking care of his hysterical mother, he collapsed in my arms. I held him, rubbing his back while he sobbed against my shoulder until he was completely exhausted.

"I need to drop out of College." he explained, standing up from the couch the two of us had been sitting on.

"Mom can't pay back the credit for all the hospital bills on her own. I have to support her as well as I can."

I nodded my head, knowing how hard that decision must have been for him. It was his dream to become an architect, to design houses that would turn into homes. Giving that up for a rather poorly paid job in a bank wasn't really a tempting alternative for that. But life is life and sometimes it just sucks.

He started the job two months after his father's funeral and although he never openly complained to me, it was obvious that he was unhappy. The job he had held no place for creativity and cutting that off from Edward was like keeping a bird inside a too narrow cage.

His mother re-married within the first year of her husband's death and Edward didn't get along with him at all.

Sometimes, I guessed, that Marcus had figured out was going on between me and his stepson because he started making some comments, asking which of us was the girl and crap like that. It made Edward panic secretly.

Then, one foggy November night came the time when he finally dared to spill the truth to me.

"I'm going to marry the Swan girl."

"You are going to do what?" I asked, my voice nothing but a shrill scream.

"Look, you know how I feel about you, Jazz. But…we…we can't go on like that forever. I want to have a family. I want to make my father proud."

"I bet your father would be so proud knowing his son is a goddamn coward who prefers running away from his true self."

I grabbed his shoulders so tightly that my knuckles turned white under the skin.

"You said you love me."

"I do. God, Jazz. Please you have to understand. I want to do the right thing. Bella is a nice girl, the two us of will get along fine."

"I hope your dick falls off the moment you stick it inside her slimy pussy. Now, piss off and try to get happy living your shitty, little heterosexual happily ever after. I'm done with dealing with this crap."

With that I left his house, locking myself inside my room, only leaving it to take a piss or to grab some cold Pop tarts and Coke from the kitchen. It went on like that for about three days until I managed to compose myself enough to re-build the façade of faked happiness around me.

I agreed on being Edward's best man, hired a busty red-haired stripper called Vic for his stag party and even let myself sink so low as to fuck around without protection with some Mexican guy I met in a bar.

So, what if I died of Aids? Who was going to give a shit about that?

The sharp, biting scent of burning plastic and metal brings me back to the presence. I turn around and watch my car burn down in front of my eyes, wishing I could burn down my emotions as well.

Way too early on the next morning I pack my entire stuff into two suit cases, explain to Mom that I need some change of air and head for SEA TAC, taking the first flight to the East Coast that I can catch.

In Boston I get a cheap hotel room and my days consist mostly of drinking cheap beer and whisky and munching down the greasy Chinese takeaway from the Restaurant around the corner.

I think about killing myself and even manage to buy some razorblades but when I lie in the bathtub and press the metal against my wrist I am too chicken to cut down.

Or maybe it hasn't got to do with being afraid of dying, for I'm not. The thing is I want to live.

I don't want to live with the pain inside of me.

After a few month of drinking myself daily into an almost delirium I end up in the hospital in the middle of the night with horrible stomach cramps and fever.

The young, spikey-haired nurse who takes care of me is kind. She sits down on the edge of my bed, checking the temperature and for some reason I find myself opening up to her. I don't know why it is so easy to talk to her, maybe she just has been there in the right moment but for the first time in a very long time I actually feel a glimpse of hope.

Alice becomes my angel. She helps me to stay sober and convinces me to attend a few AA meetings. She makes me laugh when she rolls her eyes at me after seeing the mess in my hotel room, calling it a paradise for rats and cockroaches.

I move out and stay at her place for a while, sharing my room with her impressive shoe collection. Alice doesn't have a TV; she has no money to pay the cable bills anyway because most of her wage ends up in another pair of heels.

Maybe she should have gotten a job in a shoe shop instead of working night shifts in the E. R.?

But it is mainly because of her that I find myself in Med School half a year later. Her joy in helping others fascinates me and after biting myself through the difficult tests, I start to enjoy my studies. They keep my mind focused and occupied.

Alice sets up a few dates for me but her taste in gay men is just horrible. Not wanting to risk any more of her attempts to pair me off with someone I start a loosely flirt with one of the guys in my gym.

I like Seth mostly because he's the absolute opposite of him; Small, tanned and very relaxed about his sexual orientation.

A month after our first date he introduces me to his mother and Sue closes me in her heart like a second son. His sister is an embittered bitch though. I try to ignore her as much as I can.

The next years seem to pass in a flash and although Seth and I break up eventually when I realize that my feelings for him are just not strong enough, we still remain close friends.

I decide to specialize in Pediatrics simply because I like kids and spending time with them brings me happiness. I like that kids aren't as two-faced as many adult are.

My very first shift at the Presbyterian hospital is almost done when an ambulance brings in a little boy who is bleeding severely out of a wound in his forehead. Putting on a fresh pair of gloves I grab a bottle with disinfectant and pour a bit on a piece of cotton batting.

"Turn your head to me." I whisper, lifting the blood soaked cloth form his forehead.

It is then I cringe back for the first time in my young medical career and it's definitely not because I'm horrified by the laceration that is running down his entire forehead to his left eyebrow.

What makes every cell in my body freeze and burn simultaneously is that the tear-filled pair of little green eyes that stars back at me looks exactly like Edward's.

"Dr. Whitlock, is there a problem?" A nurse asks me and I take a deep breath, assuring her that everything is pretty fine.

"My head hurts. My head hurts so much." he starts sobbing, warm tears falling down his cheekbones.

"I will make it better. We'll stitch up your wound and if you are lucky you get a cool scar like a pirate."

"Really?"

"I'm a doctor, so I must know the truth. How did you hurt your head?"

"I climbed up the drip rail on Miss Emily's house while she was baking in the kitchen and fell down. She's pretty angry at me now."

"I think she's probably just scared that you hurt yourself. Now take a deep breathe because this is going to burn."

"Ouch! Ouch! Oh, it stings so much, so much."

He keeps whimpering and crying until I'm eventually finished stitching up his forehead.

"So, it's already done." I state, placing a band aid over the wound to keep it from getting infected.

"Please, don't tell my Daddy that I cried."

"I won't."

I'm not too keen on meeting your daddy again anyway. Thinking of that, I notice the missing of a completely hysterical mother in the E. R. Haven't they called her yet?

"Your mommy is going to be here soon." I tell the little one who is wiping his running nose on the fabric of his shirt until I hand him a tissue.

"Blow. Yes, just like that. Your mommy is going to pick you up and then you need to lie down and rest a bit. No more climbing up anything in the next weeks."

"Kay, Doc. But my Mommy can't come here to pick me up and my Daddy is still at work."

"Riley! My God, Riley, why do you always have to do such stupid things?"

Edward's voice is a strange mixture between anger and alleviation with the second clearly dominating the first one. He hugs his son tightly and pales a bit around the nose when he notices all the blood.

I drink him in like an alcoholic starring at a bottle of the finest cognac. He is still so very handsome, the grey of his suit brings out the different shades of red in his hair and his gorgeous face makes my insides turn into a wobbly mass of warmed up feelings.

Our eyes meet and none of us speaks for a very long time until eventually Riley breaks the silence.

"The doctor said I'm going to have a pirate scar. Isn't that cool, Daddy?"

"It would be way cooler if you would learn not to hurt yourself doing stupid, dangerous things. Miss Emily is not going to watch you any longer because you cause her too much trouble. Now, who is going to babysit you while I'm at work?"

"I'm sorry, Daddy."

"I hope so. You need to start acting like a big boy and not like a baby that doesn't know what's right or wrong."

"Yes, Daddy,"

"Fine," he murmurs, running his fingers over the blood crusted brown hair on Riley's head. "I'm glad that nothing worse happened to you."

Then he stands up from his knees and clears his throat before he turns directly to me.

"He doesn't have a concussion, does he?"

"I don't think so but you should pay attention to whether he gets disorientated or sick. Then you or Bella should bring him back to the hospital to check on him."

"Bella is in Vancouver with her new husband."

"The two of you are divorced?" I croak out, unable to suppress the sublime tone of satisfaction in my voice.

He nods his head, rubbing his eyes nervously and I can see his Adam's apple move when he swallows hard before speaking up.

"It's a long story. Do you want to have coffee some time? We could talk about old times and stuff like that."

Sit there and slurp down some Grande Americano at Starbucks and talk? Talk about what Edward Masen? How your wife left your sorry ass? How you broke my heart? Maybe we should have some Blueberry muffins with that, regular ones preferably, not the low-fat crap that Alice always orders when I go there with her.

He's such a moron.

"Please, Jazz." he whispers, fumbling a tiny calling card out of his wallet. "I just want to talk."

I nod my head and find the muscles in my face too stiff for granting him the smallest hint of a smile. He sighs deeply and lifts the little one up, carrying him on his hip when he walks out of the room and probably out of my life again.

It doesn't happen. Next morning when I show up in the hospital after barely having caught a handful of sleep there is a basket with candy and wine on my desk, decorated with a card, written full with several lines in Edward's crawly handwriting.

Jazz,

Thanks again for stitching up my boy. Riley speaks very highly of you. I hope you'll call and please, don't think that I don't know how much I'd deserve your rejection. I fucked up, badly. I fucked up more than a single person should be capable of fucking up. I know, I hurt you and by doing that I hurt myself. Not that it matters a thing. I deserve all the pain I already felt and the ones to come.

Because no matter where I go or what I'll do. I'm always yours, always. Nothing can change that.

Edward

I re-read the letter four times before I rip it apart into a dozen of small stripes and throw it away into the trash under my desk. The tears come and I don't have the strength to hold them back. So, I sit in my office, glad that nobody is paging me and wait for my nerves to calm down again.

I am torn. Part of me wants to shove it into his face that he needs to fuck off. Other part of me wants nothing more than to run to him and never let him go.

I'm still in love with him and I don't want to be because of all the crap he's pulled. But he's it for me and it's only the unendurable fear of getting hurt again that keeps me from dialing the number on the little card that's still in my lap coat.

Alice enters my office. I know it's her without raising my head because she's the only one who never considers knocking on the door before rushing in.

"Jasper, can you…Shit, what's wrong with you? Has somebody died on your watch or something?"

I sniff and take several deep breaths before I stand up again.

"It doesn't matter. He shouldn't matter anymore. I should be over him. I want to be over him so badly."

Very gently she places a dainty hand on my cheek and rubs away the rest of my tears.

"It's him, isn't it? The Asshole showed his face again, and seeing him has ripped open all the old wounds."

Alice knows everything about Edward and her dislike for him knows no boundaries. I lean back against my desk while she sits down on it and wraps the foil from the basket.

"Can I have some of the caramel toffees? I'm starving."

"Take the entire thing. I have no use for it."

"Thanks." she murmurs, stuffing a piece of brown candy between her burgundy colored lips.

"Do you want to talk? Where did you see him? In a club?"

"His son," I make a pause and take a sip from the awful lukewarm water on my desk. "His son was here for a stitching job yesterday and guess who was the lucky fucker of a doctor who got to treat him?"

"You are shitting me, aren't you? Damn it, I take one lousy day off in weeks and bump…exactly that's when finally something exciting happens here."

"Oh Alice,"

"Was he here with his wife? Does the poor thing even know that her hubby swings both ways? I bet she doesn't."

"It doesn't matter what she knows or doesn't know. They are divorced."

"Hmm, that's interesting."

"He wants to see me again. I don't know what to do."

She takes another praline from the basket and wraps off the silvery foil.

"Do you still love him?"

I barely nod my head. "Yes," I whisper, "I love him…still."

"Well, then it's an easy decision. You need to see him."

During the entire shift Alice doesn't leave me alone for a minute, trying to convince me into calling him.

"If you don't call him, I will. Be sure, that I don't have anything nice to say to that Asshole."

When I return home to my apartment I step under the shower, letting the hot water wash over my tensed body. My cock stirs up and I grab the bottle of baby oil, rubbing it fiercely all over my length before I cup my fist around its head. I think of him, like I always do when I'm touching myself and with a last final tug on my balls I come against the glass wall of the shower. After rinsing off the results of my climax I wrap a towel around me and run my fingers through my damp hair.

Then I sit down on the edge of my couch and take the phone into my trembling hand. I dial the number, delete and re-dial again several times before I eventually manage to make it to the dial tone. It rings, once, twice, a third time before a light voice picks up.

"Hi there, we don't want to buy anything."

"Hello Riley. Is your Dad anywhere around?"

I can hear him in the background, telling the boy not to pick up the phone again and a moment later he's on the line.

"I'm sorry, I told him not to play with the phone."

"It's fine, Edward. No harm done."

"Jazz! Oh God, I'm so happy that you called…I…I…be right back…just wait a moment."

He talks to the little one again and eventually the Intro Music of Sponge Bob reaches my ear before he's back again.

"I'm sorry, had to distract the kid somehow."

"By parking him in front of the TV?" I ask teasingly.

"Just for the record, the only people, that think parking kids in front of the TV is a bad habit, are people that don't have kids themselves."

"I don't know."

"But I do. God, I've missed you so much, so very much and I'm so beyond sorry."

"I missed you too, more than you deserve it. Are you free tomorrow night, so that we can have coffee after my shift?"

My hands are sweating when I enter the coffee shop the next evening. He's already there, waiting and looking incredibly gorgeous in his nervousness.

The light blue shirt he's wearing is unbuttoned at the top exposing the hollow of his throat. I want nothing more than to kiss him there. Kiss him hard and mark him irrevocably as mine.

Sitting down I wait for the waitress to return with our order. Edward has tea instead of coffee. Maybe he thinks that's better for his nerves.

"I'm glad you actually came. I was so worried about that."

"I was not sure…but…well; I said the truth when I told you I missed you."

He nods his head and reaches out for the sugar, dropping two pieces of it into his drink before he sips carefully on the hot liquid.

"I missed you so much and now that you are here, I kind of don't know what to say. I don't know where to start."

I stir around in my coffee and notice the edges of a tattoo on his right forearm. When he feels my eyes on it he pulls up his sleeve and turns his arm around so that I can take a proper look at the blue inked words.

~Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow~

"Nice tattoo."

"Thanks. It has a lot of meaning to me. I got it after I finally managed to break the gay truth to Bella."

"Why?"

"She wanted us to try some sort of sexual therapy because there wasn't actually much action going on in that department of our marriage so to speak."

"I don't think I want to know the details about how you did your wife. The thought is kind of…repulsing to me."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't going to talk about that. Just let me tell you that it was quite devastating for both of us."

"It seemed to work good enough to beget the little one."

"I'm not going to apologize for having Riley. For everything else, yes, but not for him, my son is too important to me to do that."

"Is he visiting you during his holidays?"

"No, I got full custody for him after the divorce. Bella's new hubby isn't that fond of raising another man's child and I know how it is like dealing with a stepfather that doesn't accept you. It was difficult to convince the court to sign over the custody to me, usually it always goes to the mother but Bella didn't actually fight hard for getting Riley, maybe because he reminded her too much of me."

"Must have been difficult for her to figure out you are gay."

"I'm sorry that I hurt her but it was inevitable. It was either that or swallowing the package of sleeping pills in the bathroom cabinet. I couldn't go on like that anymore, couldn't pretend not to be what I knew so clearly I was."

He reaches out his hand and places it gently over mine. My first instinct is to pull back but when his skin actually touches mine, I just can't.

I hate this man so much for hurting me.

I hate the thought that he's possibly going to do it again.

But I love him, I simply do and I always will, no matter what.

Slowly I circle the fingertips of my other hand over his for a few moments before I lean forward, hesitating midway because I know how he always refused to exchange kisses in public places.

The Edward sitting across from me is not the man he used to be. Underneath the tousled copper hair is someone way braver now and with that new acquired bravery he closes the distance between our mouths.

His kiss is slow and gentle as if he's afraid I could pull back. I can't. My mouth presses against his, my tongue moves greedily between his parted lips and I'm home. I missed him so much and I feel like I need to soak up as much of him as possible. I want to swallow him whole, consume him, so that he's mine forever.

None of us manages to pull back and when eventually we break the contact of our lips we are both panting, his face is flushed and the green of his eyes seems a bit glassy.

We don't talk much for the rest of the evening. Maybe sometimes words are not necessary to express what you feel. Maybe sometimes they are not enough.

It gets late, the tea and coffee gets replaced by bottles of beer that we gulp down before the waitress very kindly asks us to leave so that she can close up.

Out on the street I shiver and he wraps his leather jacket over my shoulders, leaving his arm around me on the short way to the parking lot.

"Aren't you afraid what people might think if they see us together?" I whisper, fumbling for the car keys in my back pocket.

He smiles, a full faced smile not a crooked one and plants another kiss on my mouth.

"I'm only afraid what you think, that you won't be able to give me another chance after everything."

I hand him his jacket back, instantly missing the musky scent that keeps streaming out of it. So, much like him, so familiar and tempting…

"I need time."

"I'll give you all the time in the world. I know, I hurt you but I want to make it good again. I want us to be okay. I want a second chance for the two of us."

Nodding my head, I push his hair out of his forehead before I step inside the car and drive off. There are two messages from Alice on the machine when I'm home.

Aren't you home yet? I hope Asshole didn't hurt you. Call me.

I delete the first message and the second one starts playing.

I'm starting to worry about you. Maybe I should have gone with you. Give me a call, so that I can go to bed.

Grabbing the milk from the fridge I pour it over a bowl of cereals and wait for them to get soggy while I dial her number. She's happy that things went alright and encourages me to wait at least three days before calling him again.

I make it until my lunch break on the second day. He suggests cooking dinner for us at his place and I roll my eyes at Alice when she hands me an untouched package of condoms after my shift.

"Here, I want you to be safe when you play with Asshole. God knows with whom he has messed around."

"You bought condoms for me?"

"Well, technically I bought them for me but I didn't see that they are for anal sex, so I have no use for them."

I plant a kiss on her forehead and head home, taking a quick shower before changing into a pair of jeans and a button down shirt.

The kid is there when I arrive at his apartment and he apologizes that he didn't manage to get a babysitter for Riley tonight.

I tell him it's ok and lean back against the kitchen counter while he keeps stirring in the pans. It smells deliciously of garlic and oregano.

"What are we going to eat?" I ask him, taking a sip from the glass of red wine he's poured me.

"Spaghetti," Riley stats looking up from the Nintendo between his hands, "That's the only thing my Daddy can cook."

"I like Spaghetti." I state, fighting the urge to cross the distance between me and Edward and hug him tightly from behind, to rub my crotch against his firm backside. Oh fuck…

During dinner I'm finding it hard to keep my eyes from Edward's mouth and I start envying the marinara sauce when he licks it off the corner of his mouth.

"Bed time for you," he tells the little one, whose face instantly turns into a frown. For the next hour Edward tries to make him stay in his bed but Riley keeps coming back until he eventually falls asleep on the couch, watching some poorly synchronized Japanese Manga comic.

While he carries the sleeping boy back to his room I take a look around in the apartment. It's small but cozy and the old map from his room is now framed securely under glass, hanging on one of the living room walls. I stand up and circle my fingertip over the reddened marks on it.

We never went to see just one of all the places we wanted to go…

Then I feel his arms around my waist and his warm lips against my neck, suckling the skin there between his teeth.

It's too soon, I feel like it's too soon for my heart to let him get this close to me again but my body is a greedy traitor and hungers for his touch.

Pushing him against the wall behind us, my tongue is in his mouth within seconds and my hands move down his chest until my fingers touch the building bulge in his jeans.

"My…room," he whispers against my lips and as soon as we close the door behind us our clothes land messily all over the floor.

When I kneel down in front of him and take the wet glistening tip of his cock between my lips he groans through gritted teeth.

I suck him in deeper, feeling him twitch and harden even more inside my mouth and I love it. My hand cups his balls and strokes them gently while I swirl my tongue down the underside of his length.

"Yes…oh…fuck…Jazz…oh fuck…oh…oh…"

His climax makes his entire body shudder while I swallow thirstily around him, savoring every drop of his lust before I let go of his still hard cock.

I want him inside me so badly.

Laying down on his king sized bed he plants a tender kiss on my mouth and moans against my lips when I let him taste the rest of his release on the tip of my tongue.

I close my eyes and groan against the pillows when he kisses his way down my spine. Roughly he cups the cheeks of my ass when he parts them but his tongue against the tiny puckered hole is so tender.

He moves it around in small circles, setting the sensitive skin there under fire. Eventually the tip of his tongue pushes through the tight ring of muscles and the sensation becomes too overwhelming. I pump my cock while his tongue moves around and around in me. It's not enough. I want to feel him in me now. I need to feel him in me.

"Take me." I groan. "Please, fuck me, Darlin'."

I can hear him fumble around underneath the bed and a moment later a slick, lube covered finger glides down the crack of my ass.

His breathe is raspy in my ear while he starts preparing me for him, slipping first one then a second finger into my tight hole until it starts to relax underneath his touch.

"Crap," he calls out suddenly and pulls back. "I don't have any…,"

"Right back pocket," I murmur huskily, feeling my own cock twitch against my palm as I watch him roll down the thin latex over his throbbing shaft.

I whimper when I feel him against my entrance a few moments later. Squeezing a bit more of the lube onto my puckered hole he slowly pushes inside of me, filling me completely.

He grabs my hips and pulls me closer against his body, his pelvis rocking against mine, while he starts thrusting deeper inside of me with every movement.

"Edward…," I moan, "Fuck, I love you so much."

"I love you…I never stopped loving you…oh God…oh…fuck, Jazz."

With a last groan against my neck his body collapses on top of mine. A heartbeat later my second release spurts all over my stomach and his sheets.

He changes them after we take a quick shower together washing off the sweaty results of our love-making. I ask him if he wants me to leave now but he quickly shakes his head.

Lying underneath the cool blankets I rest my head against his bare chest and circle my fingers over the coppery hairs around his sternum.

We talk long and for the first time he actually opens up to me about all his fears. How he wanted so desperately to be the son he thought his father had wished him to be and how now that he's a Dad himself he understands that's not necessary. A father is always proud of his son, always, no matter what.

He asks me to forgive him, again and again and I eventually kiss his mouth to silence him. I know he messed up but he's here with me now. I'm here with him and in this very moment that's everything that counts to me.

There's a knock on the door and I pull back from the kiss, leaning back against the wooden frame of the bed when Riley's little head appears in the door frame.

"Bad dream," he mumbles rubbing his green eyes before he stumbles towards the bed.

"Do you want to sleep here now?" Edward asks him, shifting a bit closer against me under the blankets.

The little one cuddles against his side but a few moments later he starts fidgeting around, pulling on the blankets when he climbs over his father.

"I want to sleep in the middle, so that I can't fall out."

"Riley…,"

"It's ok. I don't mind. Let him sleep where he wants to."

Riley grabs the pillow and tugs around on the blankets until he eventually finds a comfortable position between the two of us.

"Are you staying with us now, Doc.?" he asks me tiredly, barely able to keep his eyes open.

Edward's gives me a look full of worry, hope and most of all love. I am so his…

"Yes," I whisper, noticing that the boy has already falling asleep, with the thumb in his mouth.

Turning to my side, I reach out my hand to run my fingers over my Lover's forearm, down to the dark blue letters of his tattoo.

~Courage is being afraid but going on anyhow~

With the awareness how true these words are I drift into peaceful sleep. Now and then I wake up for a moment because both Edward and Riley are snoring so loudly.

My men, I think, unable to keep the grin from my face. I hope they have some decent cereals here for breakfast in the morning…

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